


Slow

by Saccharine_Ghosts



Series: Requests [6]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, Coming Out, F/M, Fluff and Angst, LGBTQ Themes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 07:58:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13267107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saccharine_Ghosts/pseuds/Saccharine_Ghosts
Summary: As Waylon lay across from her, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he couldn’t help but feel guilty; guilty for his love for her, for marrying her, for having kids with her, for subjecting her to a future that was out of her control. Thoughts had been eating at him for weeks now, maybe months, and like the coward his father always told him he was, he was no closer from telling the truth.He knew it would need to be a spur of the moment kind of confession. Maybe drunk, or maybe he would call out in his sleep. Maybe Miles knew, and would tell her for him. Thinking of Miles now just added another weight to his already pummelled shoulders, another confession that would never see the light of day.





	Slow

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my good dad @camerashippping on Tumblr who requested Waylon coming to terms with his sexuality, and coming out to Lisa and Miles both! Kinda took my own spin on it, and didn't want it to be too angsty, so I hope you enjoy regardless.

As Waylon lay across from her, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he couldn’t help but feel guilty; guilty for his love for her, for marrying her, for having kids with her, for subjecting her to a future that was out of her control. Thoughts had been eating at him for weeks now, maybe months, and like the coward his father always told him he was, he was no closer from telling the truth. 

He knew it would need to be a spur of the moment kind of confession. Maybe drunk, or maybe he would call out in his sleep. Maybe Miles knew, and would tell her for him. Thinking of Miles now just added another weight to his already pummelled shoulders, another confession that would never see the light of day. 

God, Miles. Ever understanding Miles, the man who spoke to the cashier at the grocery store for him without prompt, like he wasn’t some anxiety-ridden man-child. The sole reason for realization, and coming to terms with his bisexuality. Sometimes Waylon thought Miles was too smart for his own good, but in times like these he couldn’t help but wish the younger man were a mind reader on top of his street smarts. 

Waylon hadn’t realized tears were welling in his eyes before a single drop fell from his cheek and onto his pillow. He hastily wiped at it, trying to stifle the loud sobs caught in the back of his throat, but it was becoming increasingly difficult by the second. The boys were at their grandparents’ house, maybe he could slip out and watch television for a bit, blame his late night activities on restlessness and insomnia. 

Too little too late, he found out, when Lisa rolled over in her sleep, face obscured by her wild and untameable locks. 

“Way?” she called into the darkness of the room, “You okay, baby?” 

“Y-Yeah,” he sputtered, “I’m – I’m fine, just go back to bed.” 

Never a very convincing liar, he could only hope Lisa would be too overtired to push. Instead she continued to stare, eyes boring into his face as he fought back another onslaught of tears. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” she scooted closer, laying a hand on his hip. “Is it Blaire again? Has he been harassing you?” 

She was giving him an out. Yes, Blaire’s tirades had been rather tough recently, but telling her this would only cause more problems. On the other hand, another lie was out of the question, and he didn’t think he could handle the truth right now.

“No, no, it’s nothing, just go back to sleep.” 

He could practically see the frown painted on her face, always a devastating sight. 

“Waylon, please talk to me.” 

Lucky for him, she didn’t move any closer. The thumb at his hip rubbed back and forth over the elastic of his boxers, but didn’t move any more. He didn’t think he could handle it if she tried to console him any more than that. He didn’t deserve it. 

“I-I can’t –“ he hiccupped, “I’m so sorry Lisa, I –“ 

Words gave way to even more sobs, and soon he was crying into his hands uncontrollably. Again, she didn’t move to console him, but just continued rubbing his hip and back, waiting for her husband to compose himself enough to explain. 

Without moving or changing posture at all, finally she broke the silence. “Waylon, if this is about what I think it is…” 

His heart dropped to his stomach. How could she possibly know what this is about? 

“I-I’m sorry too, I guess, I know I’ve been –“ she wiped at her eyes, “I know I’ve been busy, and – and tired when I get home from work, but you could’ve just asked and I would’ve…” 

A car passed slowly down their street, high beams flashing through the half-closed shutters of their bedroom. Even if he only saw her face clearly for a second, maybe less, the hurt was eminent. 

“Lisa,” he started, cupping the side of her face. “Do you think I cheated?” 

Her nose scrunched and brow furrowed like she had a bad taste in her mouth. 

“Is that not what this is about?” 

“Oh my god,” he pulled her close, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. “Lisa, I would never! You know that. Please, please don’t think I’d ever do that to you.” 

“I know,” she squeezed him tighter, “I know, you just seemed so broken up about it I thought maybe –“ another shaky breath, “You can tell me anything, Waylon, please don’t keep secrets from me.” 

Oh, if only that were true. If only the one single secret he had wasn’t the biggest deal breaker of them all. Eight years of marriage, probably out the window, all because Waylon couldn’t control himself.

The boys weren’t home, Lisa expected the worse, Waylon couldn’t think of a better time than now to spill his guts. 

“I-It’s Miles…” he sniffed, trying to put his thoughts into order. “Christ, sorry. I’m a mess.” 

“It’s alright.” Waylon turned over and she laid her hand on his chest, rubbing soothing circles into the fabric of his sleep shirt. “Did he hurt himself again?” 

“Nothing like that, no.” He worried his lip between his teeth, finding the best way to word it. “You remember his boyfriend Dennis?” 

Of course she did, but that wasn’t the point. He was working up to telling her, so she just nodded. “He was nice, I really liked him.” 

“Yeah, yeah…” the blond reached for her hand, pulling it to his lips and placing small kisses along her knuckles. “Well, I didn’t. Miles seemed really happy, and – and I had always known he was gay, but I’d never… seen him in a relationship before. Ever since I first met him, he was single. It was…” he wracked his brain for the right word, “Strange. Not in an uncomfortable way, but more like out of character? They were disgustingly cute.” 

Lisa chuckled, “Disgusting in other ways, too. The third time I caught them in the bathroom I was prepared to lock them in there until they learnt their lesson.” 

The laugh he returned was much softer, much more forced. “Mhm, I know. He really loved him. It reminded me of us a little, when we were in college.” 

Another car rolled by, bathing their room aglow in it’s headlights. 

“When Dennis cheated… I got so mad. I was mad at him, but Miles too. He always got mad because we never got along, and Miles just thought I was being selfish. I said ‘Look! I didn’t like him for a reason! I knew this would happen!’ but Miles still didn’t get it.” He wiped away a stray tear, “I think now it was… it was me who didn’t get it. We couldn’t have known Dennis was like that but I couldn’t shake this feeling like there was something wrong with him and Miles being together.” 

Rolling onto her stomach, Lisa used an elbow to prop herself up, and over Waylon’s chest. She rested her knuckles on his cheek, rubbing the tear tracks away with gentle swipes of her thumb, careful of her well-manicured nails near the sensitive skin. 

“You like Miles?” 

The dampness in his eyes returned, and he nodded. 

“You want to be with him?” 

He collapsed in on himself, wanting nothing more than to shrink away from her soft chocolate gaze. She wouldn’t even let him hide his face in his hands, covering the shame of the confession she almost sounded like she had been expecting. 

Waylon cried, and sobbed, and wailed, and he pleaded with her to get angry, to yell, to hit him if she felt that was fair, but she just lay with him and took it. Soft hands caressed his face, over his shoulders, and chest, but it did nothing to sooth the thousands of nerves all over his body that were on fire, and the aching that took hold of his entire body. 

“I-I should go –“ he choked out, “I should leave, I-I’ll pick up the boys in the afternoon –“ 

“Waylon,” she kissed his cheek, “No, you’re not leaving. I’m not mad.” 

Now adjusted to the dim lights of the room, she could see his face contort in confusion. 

“Do you want to take a break?” she sighed, leaning over him to turn one of the tableside lamps on. “I mean, obviously I’d be upset,” she rested her head on her knuckles, elbow on the mattress. “But if that’s what you have to do, you should do it. I don’t want to hold you back.” 

Waylon shook his head, “I don’t – I don’t want to take a break, god, I – If that’s what you want then –“ he wiped away a tear with the heel of his palm, “That’s okay. It’s alright…” the last words were whispered under his breath, like they were only his to hear. 

“Maybe we can talk to Miles,” she gave him a small smile, genuine and gentle. “I can be there too, or you guys can talk it out together. Whatever you want, baby, I’m here.” 

He slumped back into the pillows, shaggy blond tresses falling into his eyes. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

Lisa let her head fall to his chest, listening to his heart slow its tumult. “I don’t know,” she replied, “We’ll get through this.” 

 

It took Waylon exactly half an hour after Miles walked in the door to their small bungalow to blurt out the words “I like guys.” 

The look on his face was indescribable. First completely blank, then confused, then it morphed into something like elation, and suddenly Waylon was engulfed in a toned chest, arms wrapped tight around his chest. 

“Waylon! I can’t believe this!” the taller man fell backwards onto the couch, pulling the blond into his lap and completely abandoning their game. 

“Miles, wha-“ 

The man squeezed him tighter, set him upright, and pat Waylon on the shoulder like a dad saying ‘Good game!’

“Congratulations, buddy, what made you realize? Wait – Don’t tell me! That’s invasive. Hold on, was it the new cashier at 7-11? He’s pretty cute, actually, I was gonna get his number. I mean, not if he was your gay awakening, of course. Bi awakening?”

Waylon opened his mouth to explain, but was cut off by a scandalized gasp. 

“Wait, are you bi? Do you still like women? Waylon! Waylon, do you still like women?!”

“Can you be quiet for two minutes so I can explain?” 

Miles’ jaw shut with a clack.

“Yeah, I don’t really… this is still new to me, I don’t know what to call it.” He chewed a nail, a bad nervous habit he had since he was a child. “I told Lisa already.” 

The brunet’s eyebrow rose comically, “And she’s cool with it?” 

“Surprisingly,” he huffed, “Thought I was going to shit myself telling her though.”

His companion let out a snort, taking a sip from his open beer and picking the controller back up. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” 

Waylon thought he might leave it at that. They resumed the game and, like always, Waylon kicked his ass. Always perceptive and constantly on the job, Miles must have noticed something was still up, setting his beer back down as another round counted them in. 

“Everything good, Way? You barely beat me that time.” 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he chewed his cheek, again searching for the best combination of words that would get his point across as gentle as possible, but nothing was coming to him. 

“It was you.” 

Miles didn’t look up from the game, more focused on how his character was falling off the map. “What?” 

“You were what made me realize…” 

Miles dropped the controller, sucking in a shallow breath through his teeth and turning slowly to face the blond. “You’re shitting me.” 

“I’m not.” 

The taller man leant back on the couch, looking Waylon up and down like there was something else to tell from the situation. Miles’ expression was blank, but the stare made him feel naked, exposed to the elements of a shameful confession. 

“Glad to have rubbed off on ya’.” The younger man smirked then, punching Waylon lightly on the shoulder. It was becoming increasingly obvious he didn’t understand, and Waylon’s chest tightened with the prospect of having to say it again, or be any less vague about his feelings. 

Waylon would leave it at that. Hiding his uncomfortable frown behind the neck of his beer. 

“So I take it this means I can get in on the Park action now, eh?” 

The blond sputtered, coughing up the bitter amber and dribbling onto his red flannel. Miles laughed, and pat him on the back again, a look of sympathy in his eyes. 

“Way, buddy, I’m just kidding around.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m not!” he snapped, “Can’t you take something seriously for once?” 

The brunet looked taken aback, hand tensing on his friend’s shoulder. Waylon had snapped at him very few times, and every time sent him reeling. 

_‘You were what made me realize…’_

It hit Miles like a door closing in his face. 

“Oh, Waylon…” he leaned in, wrapping his arms around the older man again and pulling him close, much gentler than earlier. “Way, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he murmured into the man’s shoulder, “I’m the one who should say sorry, that’s – that’s weird. It’s weird of me to feel like that about you.” 

Then the other man began chuckling, and Waylon didn’t know whether he should be relieved or offended. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Miles pulled back, swiping some blond locks from the other man’s face. “Do you really think I bought you a drink and gave you my number in college just so we could become friends?” 

Waylon blanched, and suddenly the old memory seemed so much fresher. 

“I-I didn’t think-“ 

“Of course you didn’t,” Miles rolled his eyes, “Never been hit on by a guy before, so you didn’t think.” He smirked, “But you were cool, so I stuck around, even if you didn’t like me that way.” 

Waylon threw his controller to the floor with a sigh, burying his face in his hands and abandoning his character as they were mauled by an NPC. 

“I’m such a dumbass.” 

“Hey,” his hands were pried apart, “You’re not a dumbass! Look at me – You’re not.” 

Despite the genuine tone and the uncharacteristically gentle look on Miles’ face, Waylon couldn’t help but think that wasn’t true. 

“Did you tell her about… y’know –“ 

“Yeah,” he ran a hand through his bangs, “She’s understanding, god knows why, but she wants me to do what I have to.” 

Not subtly at all, Miles leaned in a bit, fiddling with his beer bottle. “And uh – what exactly do you have to do?” 

For the first time in their conversation, Waylon shot him a genuine grin, even fighting it a bit. “You ass.” 

He raised his hands, one in the air and one to his chest, “Waylon Park, I am nothing but a gentleman,” his smirk grew into something devilish, “but even gentleman know when he should seize an opportunity.” 

Waylon laughed, letting his back fall against the couch as he put a hand out for the other man. “Come here.” 

Without further prompt, the taller man obliged, taking Waylon’s hand and moving down the sofa so he could lay close to him, pressed together so Miles could rest on his shoulder while the blond ran his hand through his well-groomed hair, something they did often but it was much nicer when neither were under the influence. 

“How you wanna go about this, Way?” 

Waylon had never heard the journalist’s voice so quiet before, so absolutely soft and soothing to his ears. 

“Slow,” he scratched the brunet’s scalp, “I-I’m still figuring stuff out.” 

Miles leant up, hovering just a few inches above the man below him. 

“I can do slow.” 

It was Waylon who took the plunge, wrapping an arm around his best friend’s neck and pulling him down so their lips could meet. It wasn’t skilled, or passionate, but Waylon felt it like cool water on a hot day, soothing his entire body and mind. It took Miles by surprise, but soon enough he was reacting in turn, hands wandering over his clothed shoulders as pliant lips moulded to his own. 

Miles broke away, face flushed but eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. Maybe he felt the same way Waylon did, and cool relief washed over him despite their unknown future, and he tugged the man back down into his embrace, ready to take advantage of his newfound freedom.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, constructive criticism and comments are welcomed and encouraged!
> 
> If you have a request or would like to find me on other social media, my Tumblr is **milesupy0urs.tumblr.com** and I can be contacted there through DM or ask box.  
>  **(CW: NSFW Horror Blog)**


End file.
